


Gemini Rising

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:59:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone wicked this way comes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gemini Rising

## Gemini Rising

by Silk

Author's disclaimer: Pet Fly and Paramount own 'em, not me. But I would treat 'em better. I promise. No money being made here. Trust me on this.

* * *

Gemini Rising 

By Silk 

Part 1 

Blair inserted his key into the loft door, but before he could finish turning it, a larger hand reached around him, slipping the key out of the lock and pocketing it. "Hey!" he automatically protested before he had a chance to think about the wisdom of arguing with a would-be thief. 

"Hey yourself, Chief." 

"Jim!" When he had a moment to recover, Blair frowned. "What are you doing, man?" 

"You've been working so hard lately," Jim began, curling his lower lip as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. 

"Yeah, well, that's what happens to us grad students, Jim. We work our tails off doing the scutwork and then, if we're really lucky, they pay us a pittance to fool us into thinking that they actually value what we're doing." 

Blair pulled his backpack off his back and started fussing with the outside flap. Jim placed his hand very carefully over Blair's, stilling the restless movement. "What? What is it, man? I am like so not in the mood for having my schedule fucked up even further." 

Blair stared pointedly at Jim's hand, his blue eyes blazing with an inner heat that could have meant almost anything. "I thought-I might-take us out to dinner, Chief. That's all," Jim replied apologetically, removing his hand. 

"Dinner? Ha! What's that? I have final exams to grade, Jim. That means staying up all night, if necessary, reading what my students have to say." 

Jim attempted a smile. "Shouldn't take you that long, Chief. They can't have all that much to say." 

The smile froze on Jim's lips as Blair cut him off angrily. "That's right, Jim! Denigrate my work! Never mind that I'm there for you, day in and day out! In addition to doing what I do. Oh, yeah, but that's practically a sideline, isn't it?" 

Jim held up his hands to forestall any more angry commentary. Blair was dying to get into a fight of major proportions, but Jim had no idea what was really bothering him. "Peace, Chief. I never meant to put down what you do." 

"It's my life's work, Jim. You can say it. Life's work. It's not a fucking hobby. But you obviously don't consider it as important as what you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't expect me to be at your beck 'n' call every frigging minute. Day and night." 

Jim didn't show the hurt that was welling up inside. Ouch, Chief. That last one left a mark. A flesh wound. "I-uh, I thought that was the way you wanted it, Chief," he said softly. 

"To be at your side every fucking moment? Christ, Jim, what a fucking egotist you turned out to be! You want things both ways. You want me to be there when you need me. But you want me to fucking disappear when you don't. How many people can...can fucking live...like that, man?" 

"I guess you can't, Chief," Jim said, biting his lip. Maybe, just maybe, if he drew blood, he could dial down the pain that this conversation was causing. 

"I'll just...stay out of your way," Jim added, shouldering past the younger man to open the door. It didn't slam behind him. It remained ajar. Enough so that Blair could see Jim tearing off his jacket to take the stairs to his bedroom two and three at a time. Blair stood there, staring after Jim, his backpack hanging forgotten from one hand. 

"You do that, Jim. You do that," Blair muttered to himself, passing a shaky hand over his face. 

Blair sighed as he realized that Jim had taken his keys. He searched through the bowl by the door, but they weren't there. Jim must have put them in his jacket. His jacket? Blair frowned. It was on the floor of the living room. God, he must have been more upset than he thought. 

Blair dropped his backpack with a soft thump and continued to the kitchen. He wasn't all that hungry. Another long sigh. He didn't really have time to eat anyway. All those papers to grade. He wasn't kidding when he said that he might have to work all night. 

He closed his eyes, vaguely wondering why he felt bruised. It hadn't been a physical altercation. 

But it felt like one. 

* * *

Jim lay on his back in bed, fully clothed, staring at the ceiling. He wasn't zoned. Yet. But his thoughts were growing more and more obsessive, and they all centered on one person. Blair. 

Why are you doing this, Chief? It's like you're consciously making an effort to push me away. Any other time, I'd be down there, pushing right back, trying to find out what's wrong. But now? It's like...on some level, I already know, but I don't know if I'm ready to deal with that right now. 

He listened to Blair moving around, not so quietly, not so considerately, and he wondered what he'd done to bring this on. 

* * *

"Jim? I'm going to make some soup. Do you want some?" Blair called upstairs. He knew Jim was awake. He could feel him...hiding...up there. 

Jim rolled onto his stomach, pulling one of his pillows into his arms as though it were a person. Tears filled his ice-blue eyes. Pillows made a poor substitute for someone to hold. 

"Jim?" 

Blair's voice sounded louder. Closer. He was at the top of the stairs. Jim buried his face in the pillow, unable to trust his voice to answer. 

"You okay, man?" 

Not for the first time, Jim wished that his bedroom were not so open. Granted, it was not unlike living in an aerie. But a door and a couple of solid walls would make him feel less vulnerable right now. "Go away, Sandburg," Jim groaned. 

Blair shifted uneasily from foot to foot. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Jim. It's just-" 

"You assume too fucking much, Sandburg. What makes you think I give a rat's ass what you say? You think I'm up here pining away cause you were mean to me? Aww...get the fuck out." 

Blair winced as if he'd been struck. "I guess I deserve that, Jim. I'm sorry." 

"Go be fucking sorry somewhere else, okay? I've got a fucking headache!" 

"I...I...uh, okay." Blair turned and shook his head at himself, taking the stairs a bit more briskly than usual. 

* * *

Jim could hear Blair's heartbeat speed up, but he told himself that it was because he was taking the stairs at such a clip. Not because of what he said. 

Righhhht. 

Thinking of the old saying that 'you can keep your mouth shut and people might think you're an idiot or you can open it and remove all doubt', Jim reluctantly swung his legs over the side of the bed. Making his way downstairs on a less than steady gait epitomized his general lack of common sense. He didn't need to hear sirens blaring to know that he wasn't thinking clearly anymore. But he couldn't stay upstairs forever. 

For one thing, the bathroom was downstairs. 

Creeping around the corner, he saw Blair sitting on the couch, his laptop in front of him. But he wasn't typing. He wasn't even moving. Unless you counted the way his shoulders were shaking. 

"Chief?" Christ, he was crying. Silently. And Jim had his senses down so low, he didn't hear him until he was nearly on top of him. 

Blair turned his head fractionally, his blue eyes widening at the sight of Jim. "Um...I-" 

Jim moved closer until he stood right in front of Blair. Slowly but inexorably, he knelt down on the floor. Wrapping his hands around Blair's knees, he looked up at the younger man. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything, Chief. Anything." 

Blair sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Too much, if you asked Jim. 

"I was...I was...." Blair rubbed his eyes with his clenched fists, struggling for a way to say what he had to say. 

Was what? The possibilities were endless. And he was seriously scaring the shit out of Jim. 

"...offered a job." 

Huh? That was what all this sturm und drang was about? A job? A freaking job? 

"Oh." 

"Yeah, oh, Jim." Blair sounded bitterly disappointed. "My career, which you might have taken the time to notice, is not exactly going anywhere, is suddenly taking a turn for the better. Someone wants me, Jim. How do you like that?" 

Jim dropped his gaze to the floor near Blair's feet. "You don't sound too happy, Chief." 

"Now that is the fucking understatement of the year, Jim. Now why do you suppose that is?" he demanded. 

"I don't know, Chief. Most people are...happy...when they get a new opportunity." 

"Yes, Jim. I know. And this is a fucking wonderful opportunity, too. God knows why they thought of Blair Sandburg, but hey...maybe there's a serious problem in personnel." 

"Chief." Jim forced his eyes upward, stunned to see the raw emotion burning in those eyes of Sandburg's. "You know you're good at what you do. Damn, you just took me to task for taking your work for granted. So you must know you deserve this." 

"How do you know if I deserve it or not, Jim? Did you ask me about the details? Do you even care?" 

"What do you want me to say here, Chief? That I don't want you to take it? That would be crazy. Why would I do that?" 

Blair's mouth set into a thin line. "Yeah, Jim. Why would you want to stop me?" 

Part 2 

"So this job would mean relocating?" Jim asked casually, feeling as though his entire body had gone numb. 

"You could say that." The job was at the other end of the Earth. Or it might as well be. Anywhere away from Jim was too far away. Blair's eyes flickered briefly with some unidentified emotion. 

Or at least, Jim told himself that he couldn't identify it. My whole life is being turned upside down. He knew he was being selfish, even egotistical, just like Blair accused him earlier. But he couldn't help it. So much of his life revolved around Blair. 

Blair was right. He did take him for granted. He did want him to be there when he needed him. Which...lately...seemed to be most of the time. 

But Jim couldn't see himself standing in the way of Blair pursuing his career. It wouldn't be fair. He had no...right. What compelling reason could he give Blair not to take this job? 

"I...." 

"What, Jim?" Blair looked expectantly towards the older man he considered his partner in very nearly every sense of the word. 

Jim shut his mouth so tightly, Blair could see his jaw clench. "Nothing," Jim said, his voice so soft, Blair could barely hear him. 

Blair sat back against the couch with a muffled thump. He hadn't even realized that he was sitting, quite literally, on the edge of his seat, waiting for Jim to say something, anything. 

The silence stretched out until it was painful. On the verge of zoning on the sound of Blair's heartbeat, Jim abruptly cleared his throat. "So," he said with false cheer, "what kind of job are we talking about here, Chief? Did Rainier finally wise up and make you head of the Anthropology Department?" 

Blair huffed gently, as if to say to Jim, You just can't bring yourself to take me seriously, can you? 

"Actually, Jim, the job isn't with Rainier." 

"Oh, that's right. You said it would involve...relocating." There was that dreaded word again. It made Blair's heart race, and Jim refused to let himself wonder why. 

"Well, that's not exactly true." 

Jim shook his head, a puzzled look overtaking his handsome face. "It's not?" 

Blair looked mildly discomfited. "The job's in the private sector. With a corporation. Here in Cascade." 

"Then why would you need to move?" 

Blair heaved a great sigh of exasperation. "It's one of the conditions of the job, Jim." 

"That you move out of your home? And correct me if I'm wrong, Chief, but you do think of this as your home. Don't you?" Jim almost stopped breathing, using his senses like a virtual lie detector to monitor Blair's response. 

"You know I do, Jim," Blair whispered, staring at his suddenly restless hands as they twined together. 

"Chief? No one's making you do this, y'know." 

"I know, Jim," Blair said sadly. "But I'd be a fool not to accept their offer. The prestige alone outweighs the salary, but shit, the money's astronomical, Jim. Really." 

"That's it, then. You're going to take it." Jim couldn't believe that Blair was going to take another job without even talking it over with him. Didn't their friendship mean anything to him? How can you leave like this, Chief? How can you leave... _me_? 

"Yeah." 

Jim swallowed hard, feeling panic spread throughout his formerly numb body with frightening speed. "When do you think you'll be... _gone_?" 

Blair refused to meet Jim's eyes. Jim tuned in to Blair's heartbeat, the pulse beating like a hummingbird in flight. "Chief?" 

"They want me pretty much right away, Jim," Blair said in a curiously neutral tone. 

"So...no notice? Just a flick of the wrist and bye-bye? Four goddamn years get wiped out, just like that?" Jim snapped his fingers, and the resounding crack made Blair flinch. 

"Not...just like that, Jim. We'll still be friends." Blair spoke the words, but he couldn't make himself believe in them, any more than he expected Jim to. 

"Right. We'll do lunch," Jim quipped caustically. 

Jim stood up, his great height making him loom over Blair like some kind of nightmare figure. "Guess I'm on my own now, eh, Chief?" 

"You'll have your space back, if that's what you mean, Jim," Blair said, pretending not to understand. They might as well be talking at cross-purposes, for all he cared. The important things, the things that remained unspoken between them for almost four years, would forever be left unsaid. 

"Yeah, that'll be great, Sandburg," growled Jim. 

Jim backed up a couple of steps, meaning to turn away, but his body operated on a completely different level from his brain. "Are you going to stay here tonight?" he asked hoarsely. 

"Well, yeah. Listen, I have all those final exams to grade tonight. Otherwise, I could pack now." 

"No!" Blair blinked, not knowing what to make of Jim's outburst. "I mean, no need to pack right now, Chief. You'll be... _gone_...soon enough." 

"Yeah. I guess I will." 

Jim did turn away then, but when he got to the staircase, he turned back, determined to catch one last look of his best friend before going upstairs. "Chief?" 

"Yeah, Jim?" Blair replied without looking back over his shoulder at him. 

"I...." Disgusted with himself for being such an emotional coward, Jim gnashed his teeth at the way his mouth refused to utter the words he wanted to say. "I'll help you pack in the morning," he finished lamely. 

"Gee, thanks, Jim," Blair responded, wondering at his own ability to transcend sarcasm sometimes. 

Jim's hand reached out, seemingly in Blair's direction, but then, it quickly closed on empty air. I don't need you. I never did. But I think there might be something else I want to say here, Chief. If only I knew that it would make a difference to you.... 

Part 3 

It was going to be a long night. Jim pummeled his pillow into submission several times, muttering under his breath that he should have been asleep long ago. Only the fact that Blair didn't have Sentinel senses kept him from going over the edge. At least he can't tell that I can't sleep. Not that he would know that I wasn't sleeping because of him. I mean, it's not. It's- 

\--oh, who the hell am I kidding here? My body knows something my head evidently doesn't. 

With one last tug of the pillowcase, Jim felt his weary mind relent, and he began to dream. 

* * *

Blair was wearing his backpack. It was filled to the brim with stuff. Blairstuff. His suitcase sat obediently at his side. Right by the door. 

"Chief?" Jim queried with a worried look. "Where are you going?" 

"Away," his Guide answered sadly. 

"Away where?" 

"Away from you, Jim." 

"You can't, Chief." 

"Why not, Jim? It's what you want. Isn't it?" 

"No! No, it's not what I want, Chief. I swear." 

"Then what do you want, Jim?" 

"I-I...uh...." 

Blair nodded in slow motion. "Thought so, Jim. Bye, Jim." 

Blair turned away from Jim, and suddenly Jim caught him by his shoulder, wrenching him backwards. "Don't you go, Chief! Don't you go!" 

Blair's lips parted as if to speak. Jim's heated blue gaze fell upon those lips and he was lost. Digging his fingers into Blair's shoulder, he used the leverage to pull Blair even closer. His hands slid up and under Blair's hair, tangling themselves in the silky curls. His hands looked huge on Blair's neck, and he thought, I have to be gentle. He's so- 

\--damn beautiful. 

"You can't go, Chief." Jim fought the urge to claim what was rightfully his, but he was losing the battle with himself. He brushed his mouth against Blair's, gasping at the way even that brief contact made him ache. "You belong to me." 

"I belong to myself, Jim. No one owns me. Least of all, you." 

"I love you." The words reverberated inside Jim's head until he began to twitch in his sleep. First his foot, then his arm. "I love you." 

The restlessness grew until it took shape in his dream. 

Suddenly he was no longer holding Blair. He was staring at himself. Face in the mirror. "What do you fear?" 

"Losing...Blair." 

"You cannot lose what you never had. What do you fear?" 

"Living the rest of my life...without him." 

"Your choice. What do you fear?" 

His voice but a hollowed out shell, he whispered, "That he doesn't love me the way I love him." 

The mirror image smiled mysteriously. "Only one way to find out." 

* * *

It was a groggy Sentinel who made his way down the stairs in the morning. He froze in mid-yawn when he saw Blair's suitcase set out neatly by the loft door. "Chief? I thought you were grading papers all night. But it looks like you managed to find time to pack, after all." 

"Yeah, well...." Blair ran an impatient hand through his long hair, inadvertently exposing the gold hoop earring in his left ear. "I hate to leave things to the last minute." 

"But Chief, you're never on time. For anything." Why now? Why this time? You can't wait to get away from me? 

"First time for everything, I guess," Blair said with a weak laugh. 

"I don't suppose I-" 

"Maybe you-" 

Both of them laughed at their attempt to speak at the same time. Jim recovered first. Which was nothing short of amazing, considering how tired he was. "Chief?" He paused, then concentrated. Hard. " _Blair_. Maybe you could hang around a couple more days? Give me a...little time to get used to the idea?" Of what, Jim? Of losing Sandburg? Of losing your Guide? Of losing the love of your life? 

"Well...." Blair sounded conflicted. 

Christ, Jim told himself sternly, it's fucking obvious that the kid doesn't want to go. What's the matter with you? You're a fucking detective, aren't you? Detect! 

Blair bit his lip. "A clean break is probably best, Jim. I don't think long goodbyes are in anyone's best interests." 

Blair started to turn away, and suddenly, it was just like Jim's dream. Jim reached out to touch Blair's shoulder, his touch becoming a vise-like grasp that pulled Blair inexorably into Jim's embrace. 

"I don't want you to go, Blair." God, was that his voice? Did he really sound that desperate? 

"Blair, huh?" Blair smiled despite the icy grip that fear and anxiety had on his heart. "You must really want me to stay, man." 

"You have no idea." 

"No, Jim, I don't. Maybe that's what's wrong with this picture. Maybe you-" Blair sighed. "You don't give anything away, man. Not even the tiniest piece of yourself. That's all I'm asking for." 

"Stay...and I'll work on it. Hell, we'll work on it together." 

Blair shook his head. "You make everything into a fucking project, man. Why can't you see how simple things really are?" 

"Why can't you meet me halfway, dammit?" 

"Halfway? Jim, look at us!" Blair pointed to the mere inch or so of space between their bodies, and Jim's hand abruptly relaxed its hold on Blair. 

It was just like his dream. Except for one thing. One fucking thing. One big fucking thing. 

Jim couldn't say the words that came so easily to his alter ego. 

Part 4 

Jim panted. The urge to possess was almost overpowering. Still, he bit it back. He'd had entirely too much practice doing just that sort of thing over the past four years. 

"What do you know about this...this job, Chief?" 

Blair sighed at the change in topic. So near...and yet so far. "I know what I'm doing, Jim. I resent what you're implying, man. It's so unfair." 

"Then tell me. How did you find out about it?" 

"Not that it matters, Jim, but.... Okay, I was tutoring one of my Anthro 101 students, and when I brought him up to a passing grade, the kid was so damn grateful, he invited me home for dinner." 

Jim looked wary. "This kind of thing really happens to you, doesn't it, Chief?" 

" _Some_ people appreciate me, Jim," Blair replied with a trace of bitterness, insinuating that Jim didn't. 

"Then what, Mother Teresa?" 

Blair rolled his eyes. "His parents were grateful, too, Jim." 

"How grateful, Chief?" Yeah, how fucking grateful? 

"His father offered me a job." 

"Who's his father?" 

"Nolan Emory." 

"Shit." 

"Yeah," Blair chuckled. "That was my reaction, too. He owns the biggest fucking corporation in the U.S." 

"So what's a head honcho for a major widget maker want with an anthropologist?" 

"He says I can pick my own project, Jim. He says whatever I want, he'll get it for me, and...." 

"And what, Chief?" 

"He says that he'll underwrite my research, my expeditions. Anything, Jim. He says he'll give me anything." 

"In return for what exactly, Chief?" 

"What's that supposed to mean, Jim?" 

"Well, forgive me for caring, Chief, but you don't seem to have any grasp of the actual details of what he wants from you. In return for his very fine money, of course." 

"It's not about money, Jim. You know me better than that." 

"I thought I did, Chief." You said it was about friendship, Chief. What happened to us then? 

Blair's vivid blue eyes flared for a moment before narrowing in on Jim's face. "Are you trying to piss me off, Jim? Or do you have an actual point here?" 

"Just that-well, what do you really know about this guy? Besides the fact that he's richer than God. Nobody gives anything for nothing, Chief. Nobody." 

Blair shook his head, his long dark curls bouncing back and forth, seemingly keeping time with the increasingly erratic rhythm of his heart. "Y'know, it must be scary in your world, Jim. All alone. No one to depend on. Except yourself." Blair spoke so softly, it was easy to forget just how angry he was moments before. 

"I depend on you, Chief," Jim whispered, making it sound more like a vow than a simple statement of fact. And now you're taking yourself away. Just when I realized that I- 

\--shit! How come I can hear the words inside my head, but I can't- 

Fear-based responses. Wasn't that the phrase that Blair used to describe Jim's raison d'etre? Fear. It was what drove Jim. It was what kept him locked up deep inside himself. 

But Christ, Chief, you've got the fucking key! Don't you know that? Use it! Please.... Before I fucking give up. 

It is scary in my world, Chief. Come on inside. So I don't have to be alone anymore. 

Blair reached out then, as Jim had prayed he would. Wasn't that Blair all over? He knew what Jim needed...and he always found a way to give it to him. Blair's fingers touched the side of Jim's face, and Jim closed his eyes. For a moment, he was so afraid to look away, he thought Blair might use Jim's momentary disadvantage to disappear. 

Blair's finger traced a path across Jim's lips. The gesture seemed inordinately intimate between the two men, and yet...it was not. The tip of Jim's tongue flicked out to taste the tip of Blair's finger, provoking a small gasp from the younger man. Surprise? Desire? Maybe a little of both. 

It was slow seduction, and Blair couldn't help but wonder if it was merely another way for Jim to keep him there. It was obvious that Jim didn't want Blair to leave. Blair was a trained observer, and he recognized a good attempt at misdirection when he saw one. 

How many times had he used the same technique himself? On Jim? To prevent him from guessing...well, which way the wind blew. But this? Coming from Jim? 

Show me how much you want this, Jim. If you can't fucking tell me, show me. Show me, dammit. 

Jim's eyes looked slumberous as they slid shut of their own volition. Slowly, oh so slowly, he drifted closer to Blair, his head bent at the exact right angle to claim his mouth. 

Do it, do it, do it, Blair's inner voice was virtually screaming. 

Then the phone rang. 

Jim's eyes flew open, the faint beginnings of a flush staining his cheeks dark red. Blair swore. "Jim! Don't answer it, man! Let the machine pick it up! This is-" 

Jim was gone. 

\--way more important, man, Blair finished inside his head. 

Part 5 

Blair threw open the door with a resounding crash. Okay, okay, he wasn't Mr. Muscle Bound over there, who could splinter a door by giving it a hard look, but he wasn't a lightweight either. He could make as much noise as the next man. Blair shook his head, his curls bobbing back and forth almost angrily. Since when had he joined the cast of Lifestyles of the Impoverished and Spectacularly Clueless? 

He didn't need a ton of bricks to fall on him. No, sir. He shifted his grip on his suitcase so that he could pull the door closed behind him. 

Instead, the door closed in front of him. With an even louder crash than his. 

"Where do you think you're going?" 

"Take your hand off the door, Jim." 

"No, Chief. We're not done here." 

"Oh, yes, we are, Jim. We are like so incredibly done here...you have absolutely no idea just how done we are. Now let me out." 

"No," Jim said peevishly, sounding more like a toddler deprived of his favorite toy than a forty-year old man who'd just seen the cluebus go whizzing by. Without him. 

When Blair just stood there, his fingers restlessly tapping against the door, Jim tried again. "You don't know anything about this guy, Chief. What has he got going for him anyway?" Besides pots and pots of money. 

"You think I should look a gift horse in the mouth, Jim?" 

The truth was, Blair was so preoccupied with Jim's feelings and Jim's reactions to all this, he wasn't questioning Emory's motives in offering a complete stranger carte blanche. All the CEO wanted, according to him, was his name on the letterhead. Blair would do all the work and Emory would take all the credit for that work. To someone else, it might seem like Blair was being taken advantage of. To Blair, it was the act of a generous man who cared about his son, and who was loath to let someone else's generous act go unrewarded. 

"All I'm saying, Chief, is that a man doesn't place the world at your feet unless he wants something," Jim said pointedly. 

"Yeah? So what do you want, Jim?" 

Jim colored. He couldn't help it. What do I want? An image of himself buried so deep inside Blair that they were one person filled his fevered brain, and he was instantly hard. No woman had ever made him feel this way. No one ever had. Except Blair. 

But he couldn't confess that lust was paramount in his mind. Not to anyone. But especially not to Blair. Because it wasn't simple. And it wasn't just lust. 

"We're not talking about me," Jim finally said. 

Blair shrugged. "I have to go, Jim. I need to put my bags in the trunk of the car. If they'll fit," he added somewhat morosely. 

Jim reached out and grabbed Blair by the wrist. "At least stay one more night." 

"What for, Jim? I don't see anything likely to change here, do you?" 

"Maybe." 

"Sorry, Jim. Not good enough." 

"Give me a chance to check this guy out, Chief." 

Blair's bright blue eyes turned frosty. "You picked a fine time to remember your Blessed Protector role, Jim. Only thing is, the idea of you vetting this guy's c.v. like he was my blind date or something annoys me no end." 

"You think he's interested in you that way?" Jim didn't know who looked more incredulous, himself or Blair. 

" _No one's_ interested in me that way, Jim," Blair snapped. "And I don't need you going all overprotective on me right now." 

"Someone has to, Chief. It might as well be me." 

"Are you saying I can't fend for myself, Jim? How the hell did I manage to get along before I met you?" 

"I don't know, Chief. How the hell did I manage to get along before I met you?" Jim could have cut out his tongue after saying as much as he did. But Blair's triumphant look was worth whatever embarrassment Jim felt. 

Blair set his suitcases down with a loud thud. "Okay, Jim. You just earned yourself one more night. I'll stay tonight." 

Jim bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cheering what seemed like a small victory to him. 

"Don't go getting any ideas, though," Blair warned. "It's just one night. And I'm going out tonight." 

Jim looked crestfallen. Shit. How could he compete with one of Sandburg's Dates of Destiny? Why would Blair be even remotely interested in an older man whose hair seemed to have seen better days? 

"You have a date?" 

Blair gave Jim a curiously satisfied smile. "Correction, Jim. I'm having dinner." 

"With who?" 

"Nolan Emory." 

Just as Jim would have protested, Blair held up a hand to cut him off. "It's business, Jim." 

"Can I at least meet this guy?" 

"What are you, my Mom? Even Naomi never asked to meet my...um...significant others, Jim-" 

"Don't get me started on your Mom, Sandburg! I'm amazed the woman acknowledges she even has a son!" 

"That is so not fair, Jim! Naomi was just giving me space! So I could...um...so I could...." Blair abruptly lost his train of thought because Jim was staring intently at his mouth as if...as if...oh, shit. "Jim?" 

Jim wasn't zoned. 

He was just in the midst of an impressively self-congratulatory daydream that heavily featured Blair. 

Part 6 

"Jim? You still with me, man? Hellooo?" 

Jim was contemplating the exploration of heretofore uncharted territory. In his mind's eye, Blair lay before him, body sprawled bonelessly in an artless pose. 

All Jim could think of was how people often likened desire to hunger, the object of that desire to a feast, a sumptuous banquet laid out for a starving man. A man who was accustomed to living so deeply within himself that he made quite certain never to truly come in contact with that desire, or that banquet. 

The Blair in his daydream was a sexual spirit, an incubus who eschewed women, preferring to torment Jim in his celibate state. This Blair had a knowing smile and used that knowledge to bring Jim quite literally to his knees. 

"Are you ready, Jim?" asked the dream Blair. 

"Mm?" 

"Are you ready to come back to me?" asked the real Blair. 

Jim never heard the end of that question. He heard only what his body wanted, no, needed, to hear. "Are you ready to come?" 

"Oh, yeahhh..." he sighed, a wistful noise coming from somewhere deep inside him. 

"Uh, Jim? I don't think we're on the same wavelength here, man." Jim having developed a massive erection did not perturb Blair at all. Not knowing the exact origins of said hard-on...now that bothered him. A lot. He had visions of trying to compete with some leggy redhead, and it made him want to scream in utter frustration. 

Blair was convinced that Jim felt something more than friendship for him, but he repeatedly butted his head against the wall that Jim built around himself, trying to force Jim to admit that. Someday, man...someday. 

In the meantime, Blair had a position to uphold as Guide. It was his responsibility to keep his wayward Sentinel from disappearing forever into some miniscule but hardly trivial hole in the fabric of life. 

Eventually Jim responded to Blair's voice. So calm yet so compelling. What was it about Sandburg's voice that made every pore in Jim's skin salute? He came back to himself. Very reluctantly, too. From the looks of him. 

"Dreaming something good, huh, big guy?" 

Jim's eyes shifted focus from interior to exterior with a suddenness that momentarily disconcerted Blair. If Blair didn't know better, he would swear that was passion warming the usually glacial depths of Jim's ice-blue eyes. Well, maybe it was, but that didn't mean that it was reserved only for Blair. Still, a man could hope. 

"Blair...." Jim spoke his name, his throat parched, his lips dry, as if zoning had taken something out of him. 

"Yeah, Jim?" 

He wanted to tell him something. But his mouth felt like it was wrapped in cotton. Or maybe that was his mind. He was afraid of rejection. He was afraid of being thought less of a man for desiring someone of the same sex. But even that wasn't enough to render him speechless. 

He wanted to tell Blair what was in his heart. But the idea of abandoning what worked, what he already had with Blair, for some nebulous uncertainty that might or might not come true frightened him, and it was that fear that bound him now. 

"I...." 

Blair looked at him expectantly. 

"I'd better get ready for work." 

* * *

Dinner did not go as planned. It wasn't Blair's fault. He could only guess what Jim was thinking about during his last zoneout. No, wait, that wasn't right. Jim couldn't think during a zoneout. He just reacted. 

Well, whatever Jim was reacting to during his monumental daydream, it gave him a raging hard-on. Said hard-on made it extremely difficult for Blair to retain his objectivity, much less keep his mind focused on the task at hand. Oops, bad choice of words. 

For nearly three-quarters of an hour, Blair struggled to look attentive while Nolan Emory, who was surprisingly amiable for a man of his stature in the local and national communities, discussed stock options and other mundane details of joining the corporate scene. 

Blair never noticed the predatory gleam in the older man's eyes as he appraised the anthropologist. If he had been paying more attention, he would have seen that the man's interest was more than that of a boss for a new employee. Blair was a wanted man. In every sense of the word. 

Nolan was easily in his fifties, but his superb physical condition allowed him to pass for a man at least ten years younger. His coloring was fair, his features more interesting than handsome. If Blair wasn't hopelessly in love with Jim, he might have looked twice before dismissing the man as a potential lover. But Blair wasn't looking for anyone. 

He already had the man he wanted. Jim just didn't know it yet. 

* * *

"Blair...you have the most remarkable skin. It looks so...smooth. Even silky. May I... _touch_ it?" His voice was undeniably seductive, shaded with just the right amount of hesitancy, as though he found Blair totally irresistible. 

But it was the inappropriateness of the remark that finally caught Blair's wandering attention. "Excuse me?" 

He smiled like a man who was used to getting what he wanted. "Surely you must have noticed how attractive you are. So have I." 

"Um...that's nice," Blair said neutrally. "But I'm like so not interested, man." 

"You have such a charming way of expressing yourself as well. Are you certain that I can't persuade you to reconsider?" 

Blair cringed inwardly at the blinding intensity of the smile Emory bestowed upon him. He wasn't a bad man. Just the wrong man. Yikes, how did things get so wildly out of control? Blair shivered. He really needed to start honing those listening skills. 

"Um...sorry. But no." 

"Too bad." Emory leaned back in his chair, assessing Blair yet once more. "You are such a delicious morsel." 

Blair barely quelled a shudder. Being so fervently compared to food made him more than a little nervous. Not only that but there was something possessive about the way Emory was regarding him. Well, Blair was very much his own person, but on some level, he knew that if he ever belonged to anyone, it would have to be Jim. 

"I...uh...wish you wouldn't say stuff like that." 

"Why not? It's true. You are positively delightful." 

Okay, we've crossed the line from subtle flattery to outright asskissing here. Blair sighed. He realized now that the older man had known just what to say to salve Blair's wounded ego, and that, more than anything else, had been what got him here. In fact, he realized a whole hell of a lot more than that. In an instant, he saw that he had seriously considered leaving behind everything that really mattered to him. For this man. 

Blair unconsciously shook his head in denial. He would have bet money that it wouldn't end up this way. But he would have been wrong. Oh, well...it was hardly the first time, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last. 

He stood up, signaling clearly that this meeting, if it could even be called that, was at an end. Emory slowly came to his feet. Suddenly Blair was more than nervous. This man was in great physical shape. He probably ate short, geeky anthropologists for breakfast. 

Ooh, given the earlier food metaphor, that was not a reassuring thought. Blair's eyes flickered back and forth, judging the distance to the door of the restaurant and whether or not it would be necessary to...um, call for backup. Now that provoked a giggle that Blair fought to suppress. 

Blair offered his hand. "Hey, it was nice of you to feed me, man, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline that great offer of yours." Man, this evening is so over. 

"Of course," Emory purred smoothly, inclining his head. "May I offer you a ride home?" he asked genteelly. 

"Nah, I can get a bus." 

"Oh, but I insist." 

"I appreciate the thought, but no." 

Emory moved in for the kill and struck quickly. Ironically, being in a public place gave him an advantage he was more than willing to exploit. Blair would be forced to give in, or he would cause a scene. Before the younger man could protest, Emory claimed his mouth in a punishing kiss. 

When he finally allowed Blair to surface again, for some much-needed air, he gloated openly. He loved being right. Why, just look at that stunned look on Blair's face. Perhaps he was reconsidering. 

He was right. In a way. Blair was thinking. Hard. 

Pulling the older man closer, as if he were actually entertaining the idea of taking him to bed, Blair whispered, "Now listen, you arrogant prick, you've got about five seconds to completely ignore me while I walk out of here, and if you don't stay away from me, I'll be only too happy to fuck you up." 

The older man smiled. As if. 

Blair leaned against Emory, his hands moving as if to caress him. Suddenly he seized Emory's genitals in a death grip, giving them a little surreptitious yank for good measure. His blue eyes blazing, Blair whispered, "You seem a little attached to these. If you'd like to keep them, I suggest you start taking me seriously." 

Emory went pale. It was not his most attractive feature. 

Part 7 

It was a long bus ride home. But oddly enough, Blair didn't mind. It gave him plenty of time to think. About why he always seemed to attract the wrong person. What is it with me? Do I send out some kind of vibes that say, Hey, pick on me? And it's not just romance. Oh, no. Serial killers really like me. But then, so does every other major criminal in the Cascade area. 

Lost in thought, Blair somehow managed to get off the bus at the right stop and walk the rest of the way to the loft. He paused outside the building that housed the loft. The only place he'd ever really been able to call home. He didn't want to leave, and he really hoped that he wasn't doing something fucking irrevocable, but.... He glanced up at the third floor, knowing that somewhere, unseen and unheard, Jim was there. "Sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." 

Blair thought of the soft flesh he'd gripped, and he wondered if Nolan Emory still carried the imprint of his fingers there. Suddenly grinning, Blair strode up the steps with new purpose. Talk about feeling empowered. There was nothing like knowing you held the fate of another man's dick in your hot little hand. 

As he punched the elevator button for the third floor, Blair thought, One down, one to go. He hoped that Jim could handle a crash course in reality cause the teacher was more than ready, willing and able. 

* * *

When Blair stood outside the door of #307, he wasn't surprised that Jim was nowhere in evidence. Jim was heavily into denial. Not to hurt Blair. But for self-protection. Unfortunately, though, one of the side effects of his denial was to hurt Blair. Mostly from Jim's sins of omission. I don't see you that way. Therefore, you are not that way. But Jim, denying it doesn't make it untrue. It just makes it invisible. It just turns my screams into whispers. But you can hear me anyway, can't you? You're a Sentinel. So stop pretending you don't hear me. 

Resisting the urge to knock at his own door, Blair entered the loft. It wasn't that late. But there wasn't but one light on. The kitchen. Waiting impatiently for his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior, Blair abruptly became aware that someone else was here. It had to be Jim. Nolan Emory had been left in the dust. 

"Jim? Man, where are you?" 

Blair wasn't afraid of the dark. Well, not exactly. But he had to wonder what kind of a game Jim was playing now. 

"Hey, man, is this some kind of Ranger thing? You out doing reconnaissance of the living room or something?" 

Or is this some kind of Sentinel thing? Blair gasped as the sole light, the one in the kitchen, went out. Okay, not funny. So not funny. 

He heard a sniff, and all at once Blair realized that Jim was stalking him. In a very real way. He was using his sense of smell to track Blair. But hey, Blair's mind protested, I'm not prey. Two well-muscled arms grabbed him around the waist, forcing the air out of his lungs. 

Blair found himself caught in an inescapable grip. Not that he minded. Jim was touching him. Voluntarily. Well, okay, maybe he was under the influence of that territorial imperative, but hey, it worked in his favor. Jim squeezed Blair a little bit too hard, and Blair yelped. Well, sometimes it could be too much of a good thing. 

"J-Jim?" 

Jim was standing behind him, his arms crossed in front of Blair's body. Their bodies were pressed so tightly together, their shadows merged. Or they would have, if there had been any light. "Jim, I know you can see me, but I can't see you. So this is a little bit scary right now. Could you say something?" Preferably something reassuring. 

"Mine..." came the throaty whisper. Well, that was...um...almost reassuring, wasn't it? Blair knew, in his heart of hearts, that Jim would never hurt him, and it was that belief that permitted him to relax against the much larger man. 

Jim's hands slid down the length of Blair's body, cupping what would soon be an unmistakable arousal. Blair's mouth fell open even as his head lolled to the side, allowing Jim access to his neck. Jim released one hand to push Blair's hair to the side, almost angrily, and Blair realized that Jim was at the mercy of all those latent, undisclosed feelings. Jim licked the exposed skin that lay beneath Blair's fine gold hoop earring. This was no polite, deferential gesture. This was unabashed longing expressed in its most basic form. 

Suddenly Jim froze. For a moment, Blair wondered if Jim had, so to speak, come to his senses. But he hoped not. This was a part of Jim he had wanted to get in touch with for years. To have all that passion directed at him. 

Like the big jungle cat that was Jim's animal spirit, Jim tensed, emitting a low growl. Okay, Blair jerked nervously. That was not a happy noise. That was not the panther purring contentedly because it finally found its mate. Shit, no. That was, unless Blair was very much mistaken, a very bad sound. 

Jim wrinkled his nose. Blair smelled like Blair. And something else. No, someone else. Overwhelmed by pain that came crashing through whatever fugue state Jim was in, Jim howled. Someone else had touched Blair. Someone male. 

Now there were words in Jim's head. Not many. Most of them repetitive. His arms dropped away from Blair's waist. "You were with him!" Jim sounded like he was way beyond jealousy. 

"No, no! Jim, listen! I had dinner with him, that's all!" 

"Don't lie to me!" 

"I'm not lying, Jim! You were right! Emory wanted more than I was willing to give, man!" 

"What did you give him, Chief?" Jim's rasp sliced through the dark like a knife. 

"Nothing!" 

"Liar!" 

"Okay, okay, he kissed me! Against my will, I might add! Sheesh, what is it with all you big macho types that you all think I'm fair game and up for grabs?" 

Jim pressed his nose against Blair's cheek, hard enough to drill a hole there. He smelled the intruder on Blair. Quite clearly now. "He can't have you." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I already told him that." 

"You did?" Jim lost some of that frightening intensity, and Blair began to think there was hope of resolving this. Without bloodshed. 

"Yeah, Jim. I don't always need someone else to fight my battles for me, you know." 

The look of hurt on Jim's face was gone before he even had a chance to register it. "You don't need me," Jim interpreted. 

"What is it with you, Jim? Would you want a partner who can't stand on his own two feet? Trust me, Nolan Emory got the message that I am not interested. You don't need to handle it. There's nothing to handle." 

Blair studied the way exhaustion crept slowly into Jim's features, and he surmised that this little fight-or-flight scenario had taken its toll. All that adrenaline gone to waste. Jim ready to nod off. And goddammit, he still hadn't gotten laid. 

Just as he was ready to give up, he thought, Fuck, I may never get Jim in this frame of mind again. If I let him go to bed now...it might never happen. Shit, even if it does, there are no fucking guarantees. 

Jim started to turn away, but Blair caught him, pulling him back to where he belonged. "Jim, I want this." 

Jim's light blue eyes darkened with something indefinable. "You smell like him." 

"But I wasn't with him, Jim. Not that way." 

Jim hesitated, evidently torn between what he wanted and whatever error messages his hard-wired brain was attempting to send. 

Blair began taking off his clothes, starting with his jacket. "You want me to get rid of the smell, Jim? I can take a shower." 

"Even if you wash him off, I'll still know," Jim said, sounding for all the world like a betrayed man. 

Blair despaired of getting through to Jim. Jim in this elemental hunter-type mood was difficult to control. He only understood what was most primal. Possession. 

Wait...possession. 

"Jim," Blair said, his smoky blue eyes holding a wicked glint. "There's only one way to make things right." 

Jim looked inquiringly at the man whose practical magic transformed his life on a daily basis. 

"Claim me as yours." 

Part 8 

"Claim you?" Jim echoed. He had the dumbest, most shit-eating grin on his face. But for some reason, Blair doubted that he knew it. The grin faded as Jim's eyes traversed the entire length of Blair's body. 

Blair chuckled nervously under Jim's renewed scrutiny. Sheesh, the man was so intense. "You know, take me, I'm yours?" 

Bingo. That must have been the right thing to say, or something approximating it, because suddenly Jim's hands were everywhere. Oh, shit, yeah. There, too. 

Blair groaned. He faced the dilemma to end all dilemmas. 

Blair was afraid to let go of Jim long enough to take a shower. Jim was touching him again. He wrestled with himself for all of ten seconds on the issue of whether or not he was shallow enough to settle for sex without the appropriate declarations of love. 

Yes. I am that shallow. No. Not shallow. Realistic. Chances are, I am never going to get this chance again, at least, not anytime soon, so I have to go for it. 

Jim was nuzzling Blair's after-dinner beard, apparently uncaring that he was letting himself in for one hell of a burn when he suddenly spoke again. A full sentence. "You said you would take a shower, Chief." 

"Ummm...." Blair couldn't argue with that. He did say that. But Jim was being seriously accommodating here, and he had a feeling that if he took a shower, Jim would have himself nicely tucked away in that little pocket of denial he kept before Blair could dry off. 

"Jim?" 

"Mmm?" 

At the risk of sabotaging the future of their relationship, Blair suggested, "Let's take this upstairs." 

"No," Jim said firmly. "I'm not taking you into my bed smelling like someone else, Chief." 

"Jim, it was just a fucking kiss. Deal with it, man." 

Jim stared at his would-be, wanna-be lover for the longest time. So long, in fact, that Blair became convinced that Jim was memorizing his features. One at a time. 

"I don't want you to be with anyone else, Chief," Jim finally said, his throat aching with the burden of words that would not pass. 

That was so close to a declaration of something that it made tears well up in Blair's eyes. "If it means anything, Jim, I didn't want him to kiss me. I've never kissed a guy before, but if I did...I wanted it to be you." 

A long, sharp exhalation of air broke the silence that ensued. "Christ, Chief." 

In the dark, driven by pure instinct, Blair found Jim's mouth and kissed him. To his amazement, Jim didn't pull away, but opened his mouth, allowing him greater access. A moment later, Blair was all but clinging to Jim's neck, his arms impatiently intertwined, his tongue restlessly searching Jim's mouth for its mate. 

When Jim broke off the kiss, they were both breathless. Another sunny smile burst across Jim's face. "Now you taste like me." Spoken like a true Sentinel. Everything came back to one of his senses. 

Blair shook his head slowly. "Now we taste like each other." 

* * *

Blair didn't remember taking off his tie. Or his pants. Or any other item of clothing, now that he thought about it. Suddenly he found himself in Jim's bed, carefully ensconced amongst the yellow bed linens. Naked. Aching. Wanting. 

He didn't really know what to do. Oh, all right, he knew what to do in the most basic sense. But in a way, he felt almost virginal. Lying with his first lover. Well, maybe Jim was the first one who mattered. "Wh-what should I do, Jim?" 

"Just be here, Chief," he said softly, punctuating each word with a kiss to Blair's face. 

Blair quelled the urge to speak any further, surrendering to the sheer physical sensation of Jim making love to him. No more analysis, he told himself. I'm going to be very Scarlet O'Hara and think about all the serious stuff tomorrow. 

Jim settled comfortably on top of Blair's body, his half-hard cock nestled in the vee between Blair's legs. Bracing himself on both arms, he began planting tiny, tender kisses from Blair's sternum to his navel. Blair's head twisted back and forth on his pillow, and though he didn't say anything aloud, he wanted to shout for joy. To think that even as late as this evening, he thought he would never lie in Jim's arms. 

"Jim?" 

Jim hoped that Blair wasn't having second thoughts. He himself was having second, third and fourth thoughts, but it still wasn't enough to stop him from taking what the beautiful man beneath him was offering. 

Blair ran his fingers over the short-cropped hair of the man he loved. It felt like crushed velvet. Jim sighed and lay his head on Blair's abdomen. This must be what it felt like to be completely at peace. Oh, he knew that he hadn't said the words, but surely they were shining from his eyes every time he looked in Blair's direction. 

"Yeah, Chief?" he asked, hoping that whatever Blair had to say wouldn't keep them from being together. 

But no. The expression on Blair's face was mischievous, almost sly, though Jim would have sworn that Blair was anything but devious, no matter how expert his obfuscations might be. 

"Can we go back to what you were doing before?" 

Jim's eyebrows soared upwards in puzzlement. "Which before, Chief? And what were we doing?" 

"Forgot already, huh?" 

"You little cocktease...." 

"Ah, ah, ah...sticks and stones, Jim. Besides, it's not that little." 

"I wouldn't know. Someone keeps interrupting me before I get to the good part." 

"Define good part, Jim." 

"You talk too much, Sandburg." 

"You can't call me Sandburg when you're touching my cock, Jim." 

"I'm not touching your cock, Sandburg." 

Blair chortled happily. Some people might see arguing as pointless, but to him, it was foreplay. It had been that way for nigh on to four years now, and he didn't see any reason for it to change. 

"C'mere." 

Jim patiently fulfilled Blair's request, staring into those vivid blue eyes. Suddenly embarrassed, Blair beckoned Jim close enough to whisper into his ear. After he did, Jim looked surprised. But a moment later, he was laughing. "You want me to do what?" 

"Just do it, Jim." 

"You want me to lose control like I almost did before?" 

A dreamy smile curved Blair's lips. "Hell, yeah. That whole primal thing was really...." 

Jim arched an eyebrow with great precision before a sultry look transformed his face. " _I_ have no problem with being a great big black cat, Chief...." 

"I just can't see you as the Big Bad Wolf." 

Part 9 

"Maybe I'm just hiding in sheep's clothing, Jim," said Blair with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows. 

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to say, Ooh, what big teeth you have, Grandma?" 

All the breath whooshed out of Blair's body at once. "All the better to...eat...you with, Jim." 

"Fuck." 

"Yeah." 

"Um, one of us is too far away." 

"Can't be me, Chief. I'm practically lying on top of you. In fact, your furry little body makes a nice pillow." 

"Don't get so comfortable, Jim. We haven't done anything yet." 

"Well, Chief, funny you should mention that. I...." 

"What, Jim? You have some terminal illness that will prevent you from fucking me senseless?" 

Jim blushed. Despite his years in Vice, despite his constant contact with the criminal element, there were just some things that you couldn't pick up without...well, doing them. 

"I've never-" 

"You've never? Jim, you must be kidding me, man! I mean, I mean-" 

Blair collapsed onto his back, feeling the overpowering ache to be with Jim growing stronger and stronger. To think, he believed he knew what frustration felt like. 

"You mean you haven't done this before, Chief?" 

Blair smiled weakly. "Would it help if I said that I was saving myself for you, big guy?" 

A wave of tenderness swept over Jim, but the deep throbbing between his legs commanded his attention immediately afterwards. "Unhhh..." Jim groaned, burying his face in the pillow next to Blair. 

"Dial down your touch, Jim. That should help." 

"Sandburg, if there's one thing I do not need right now, it's a lecture from you on my senses, turning this into another fucking experiment." 

"Fine. Then suffer. At least you can do something. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard...place," Blair's voice trailed off. It wasn't funny. It wasn't. But he felt the laughter bubbling up in his throat, and he thought, dammit, if I make one sound, Jim is going to have my ass. And not in a good way. 

He waited a few seconds before saying anything. "Jim?" 

"Chief?" 

"Don't you think it might be logical to assume that somewhere along the line, presuming, of course, that we got hot enough to set off fireworks, instinct might take over?" 

Jim sighed. "You are turning this into a science project, Chief." 

"Jim, there are other ways of-" 

"Spare me, Chief," Jim said, taking refuge in sarcasm. "Just goes to show you, I'm not much fucking good at this sort of thing, Chief. I should have warned you off. I mean, look at my track record." 

Blair shivered, trying not to think about how close his body was to Jim's. Proximity wasn't everything, but it gave him a head start. "Jim..." Blair ran his knuckles down the length of Jim's body, stopping only before taking his cock in hand. "I want to touch you. I need to." 

Jim was drawn back to Blair's eyes, despite himself, and he nearly gasped at the heated look Blair gave him. How could something so cool look so hot? His eyes were not pale or pastel, but they were defiantly, vividly blue. Since when did fucking blue look like this? 

"I want to be with you, Jim," he murmured. "Any way I can. I don't care how it goes." 

"Looking at you is like finding the missing piece of the fucking jigsaw puzzle. Blair." Jim emphasized Blair's name, knowing full well that he rarely used it, ostensibly because he was such a busy soul, he could barely keep it straight. But the reality was, saying Blair's name was like speaking a secret password. It was something he wanted to hug to himself. Exclusively. 

Blair would have smiled, mainly because Jim seemed to need all the encouragement he could get, but there was something so tender in his regard for Blair that Blair's face grew grave. He was well aware that there was something of the altruist in him, in Jim, too, at times, but there was something to be said for selfishness right now. 

Blair pushed gently at Jim's chest, rolling the heavier man onto his back. "What are you doing, Chief?" 

"Practicing." 

Jim closed his eyes, trying to dial down everything but touch, but that was a mistake. The moment that he felt Blair's mouth, that full sensual mouth, on his bare chest, he arched up and off the bed. "Easy, Jim," Blair said in his best Guide voice. Coaxing the big guy out of an impending zoneout was not something he wanted to do at this point. 

No, what he wanted to do at this point was pure self-indulgence. 

Blair flicked his tongue out to capture a flat brown nipple, suckling until the tip was rigid. So was another part of Jim. They had come so far. Jim had finally given up trying to hide his arousal from Blair, and Blair rejoiced. "You're mine, Jim," he said hoarsely. 

"Heyyy...I'm the one who's supposed to be doing the claiming, Chief. Don't forget." Jim sounded so affectionate. Blair rubbed his cheek against Jim's rock-hard abdomen, sighing contentedly as Jim threaded his long, well-shaped fingers through his hair. 

"Equal time, Ellison." 

Blair nuzzled the wiry hair in Jim's groin, stunned to find that he did know what to do after all. His tongue lapped delicately along the inside of Jim's thigh, and suddenly Jim's cock was indeed fully erect. 

And staring him right in the face. 

Well, Blair thought, wasn't that a beautiful sight? 

The tip of his tongue met the tip of Jim's cock. The throbbing was so intense, Jim's cock jumped when Blair took it into his mouth. He was no expert on sucking cock, but he knew what he liked, and he was certain that Jim liked what he was doing. 

Judging from the hard length that slid willingly, almost eagerly, into Blair's mouth, Jim was close to climax. That wasn't a surprise. The way they had been dancing around each other for almost four years was like one continuous prelude. Feelings, nerve endings, always sizzling to the touch, ready to go off at the drop of the proverbial hat. 

Blair swallowed as much of Jim as he could, pondering how Jim would taste when he came. Jim groaned, "Chief! I don't think I can hold back anymore!" 

"I don't want you to hold back, Jim! I want you to come for me!" 

Jim gasped. "You would--?" 

Jim, you have no idea yet what I would do for you. "Do it, Jim! Come for me!" 

The hot, salty essence filled Blair's mouth to overflowing, a thin line trickling from the corner of his mouth. Swallowing as much as he could, Blair splayed his wet hand across Jim's chest, his own erection sliding through the stickiness at Jim's groin. 

Triumphant, Blair kissed Jim, nudging his mouth open to taste himself on Blair's lips. "I love you, man," Blair said softly. 

Jim stopped breathing, his hand automatically reaching out to stroke Blair's cheek. "Chief, I-" 

Ding-dong. Saved by the fucking doorbell. 

Part 10 

"Now who is that?" Jim asked gruffly, trying not to look relieved at the interruption. He started to get up, but Blair pressed his palm firmly into the center of Jim's chest. 

"I'll go." And get rid of whoever it is. I'm starting to think our relationship is ruled by Murphy's Law. "You wait here." 

Blair tumbled over the edge of the bed like a frenzied gymnast. The moment his feet hit the floor, he found his pants and pulled them on. 

"Don't move," he told Jim, who was both amused and flattered by Blair's sudden flurry of activity. "I'll be right back." 

Blair took the stairs two at a time, resisting the urge to jump down the last few. He didn't want to fall and risk injuring something he might need later. 

He catapulted himself across the living room, past the kitchen, skidding to a stop at the door. Belatedly realizing that his hair might well look like he'd jammed a finger into an electric outlet, he finger-combed it back as quickly as he could. Smoothing his hands on his thighs, he wished he hadn't gone commando. His as-yet untouched erection was attempting to break free of the zipper that held it prisoner. He'd try to adjust it, but to be honest, he thought with a shy smile, the only adjustment he needed was Jim. 

The doorbell rang again. Blair opened the door, prepared to greet anyone from Simon to Naomi, though not, please God, not Naomi. Not now. 

Well, Blair thought, when he could catch his breath, it wasn't Naomi. It was worse than that. It was Nolan I-never-give-up-till-I-get-my-man-cause-I-think-I'm-a-fucking-Mountie Emory. 

* * *

"What do you want?" Blair blurted out. Wow. That was graceful. Thank God you turned down that job earlier this evening. Cause your stock in Nolan Emory just plummeted to its death. So long. 

Nolan Emory smiled, if you could call it that. Maybe it was all of his experience with animal spirits, but Blair considered it more of a feral grimace. An almost ritualistic baring of the teeth. "I don't give up that easily." 

Blair contemplated pulling out his hair, one curl at a time, but then, Jim would miss it. He seemed inordinately fond of Blair's hair, and it wasn't because it made him seem more feminine. No, Blair was unmistakably male, and Jim, to his utter astonishment, liked him just the way he was. In fact, if he had to guess, he would say that his long hair played a starring role in Jim's fantasies. Which he would never ever get to explore if he didn't find a way to tell Nolan Emory to get lost. As in forever. 

"What part of "I'm not interested" do you not understand?" 

"So...." Emory's green eyes traveled around the room, surveying, assessing, and carefully appraising. It's what he did best. It's how he'd amassed his fortune. He always knew who his competition was. And he was a firm believer in "everyone has his price". The fact that he hadn't been successful with Blair didn't deter him. Everyone has his price. I just haven't found yours yet. 

"...you live with a cop." He said cop the way some people would say drug addict. Or pimp. Or any number of negative words that said as much about the person saying them as about the person they supposedly described. 

"What? Am I supposed to make a witty rejoinder to that, man? I'm not interested in you. Get over it." 

Emory bided his time. He didn't mind waiting. Good things come to those who wait. 

"I see I misjudged you, Blair." 

Blair looked hopeful. Maybe this could be resolved after all. Of course, he was assuming Jim wasn't listening. What am I saying? 

"You like to think you don't have a price. But everyone does." Emory tilted his head, his dark blond hair appealingly mussed and reflecting what little light there was out in the hallway. " _Yours_ just doesn't have to do with you." 

Blair willed himself to keep his mouth shut and not give this bastard anything more to work with. 

"You probably think you care about this cop," he sneered. "But emotional attachments can be so... _tenuous_." Emory ran a finger along Blair's bare arm. Blair shivered. Not with passion, but because the older man's touch gave him chills. 

"Why don't you just cut to the chase, man?" Blair snapped, his former good mood having evaporated along with his burgeoning arousal. 

Again that feral grimace. That hideous rictus-like grin. For someone so attractive, in the physical sense, Emory held about as much appeal for Blair as a day-old corpse. 

"I'm in a position to make certain... _things_...happen to your...um...friend. I-" 

The voice that interrupted Emory was cold. Menacing. Definitely an even match for Emory. "The only position you're in is for me to knock your fucking teeth down your throat." There was no fire behind those words. Just the unalterable truth. 

Blair half-turned towards Jim, his body automatically adopting a protective stance. If he'd stopped to think about it, he might have dismissed it as something the Guide would do for his Sentinel. But that wasn't true. Not now. This was Blair protecting Jim, friend to friend, but more importantly, lover to lover. Jim didn't realize yet how true the words he'd spoken earlier were. Blair had claimed him. 

"I could have your badge pulled like that," Emory said, a steely glint entering the soft green eyes. 

"Go ahead and try it, mastermind." Jim felt naked without his gun. But when Blair didn't immediately return, Jim pulled the sheets off his well-mussed bed and crept silently down the stairs to the bathroom. After the most cursory wash of the more pungent areas of his body, Jim found a clean pair of shorts to wear, afraid to waste valuable time getting more fully dressed. 

"Oh, my, there's no shortage of wit in the Cascade Police Department, is there?" Pause. "Your devotion to Blair is really rather quaint in its own way, but I don't suppose that he mentioned that he slept with me earlier?" 

"You fucking liar!" Blair shouted. 

"Chief...." Jim pulled on Blair's arm in an attempt to keep the younger man from doing something stupid. Like punching out Emory's lights. 

Blair struggled against Jim's iron-clad grip in vain. Jim smelled Emory on him earlier. He would believe him, not Blair. He would make him leave. "Let me go, Jim." Blair's smoky-blue eyes burned with the frustrated desire for vengeance. "You never fucked me, man! You never did!" 

Emory was delighted in this turn of events. The little anthropologist was really quite beside himself. What a pity he was expending all that splendid energy on...a cop. Emory's lower lip curled with distaste. 

"Chief...." 

Oh, dear, Emory thought with a frown. Ellison said "Chief" the way another man might have said an endearment. And the way his eyes all but glittered with some unfathomable emotion when they lit upon the smaller man.... This could be a problem. He seemed curiously determined to hang onto Blair. Hmm...how very... _territorial_. 

If he only knew. 

Part 11 

"You just keep running your mouth, sunshine. We'll see who wins this pissing contest." Jim didn't look angry. In fact, he looked calm. Too calm. When Jim was really and truly furious, he turned ice-cold. Like the frozen tundra Blair could see in his eyes now. 

Blair didn't know what he wished for more: for Jim to believe that he never let Emory lay an hand on him except for that goddamned kiss that took him by surprise, or for Jim to take his side, defend him to the death, and end up in prison for murder. Shit. Talk about a no-win situation. 

Correction. What Blair wanted more than anything else was to be with Jim. Any way he could have him. But for that to work, he had to stay alive, and he had to keep his hands off Nolan Emory. How could he convince Jim that discretion was the better part of valor? 

Blair attempted to get Jim's attention by gently clasping his wrist. But before Jim could say a word, Emory said, in a voice fairly dripping with disdain, "Oh, how nice, you want to hold hands." 

His green eyes gleamed like a predator catching wind of his elusive prey at last. ""I'm surprised you'd settle for a hand, Blair. I let you hold something else." 

It wasn't even a gasp. It was such a tiny puff of air only a Sentinel could hear it. Jim registered Blair's distress even as he fought to hold onto him. Blair struggled, knowing it was futile to try to get away. Jim was stronger, true, but he was also far more determined. 

"Dammit, Jim! I've got no way to prove I wasn't off fucking him instead of gritting my teeth through dinner! You either trust me...or you don't." Tears of frustration appeared in Blair's eyes, dulling the vibrant blue, and Jim was suddenly reminded of the way an overcast sky clouded over just before a thunderstorm hit. He didn't want Blair to hurt. He didn't want Blair ever to hurt. 

"Chief... _Blair_...I don't know this guy from a hole in the ground. But I know you." 

"Jim...." Blair swallowed, feeling like he was about to choke on the lump in his throat. "Are you saying you trust me?" 

Emory rolled his eyes. This was rapidly becoming a private moment, and if there was one thing he really couldn't abide, it was rampant sentimentality. "Oh, please." 

Jim didn't even look at Emory. There was no one who could come between him and Blair now. "Of course I trust you, Chief. I love you." 

Emory knew that once Jim declared his feelings for Blair, there might be no way for him to break that bond. He could see it in their eyes. 

"You do?" The look on Blair's face transcended all the anger, all the lies, all the distrust. 

"I've been trying to tell you, but," he glared at Emory, " _something_ kept getting in the way." 

Emory growled. Ellison was really starting to get on his last nerve. Oh, well, he hated to sow dissension and run, but...he was just so damn good at it. "Oh, tell it to Hallmark. Blair, you don't honestly, for one moment, imagine that a cop, a divorced straight cop, no less, is going to pledge undying love to you, do you?" 

Emory's derision was like acid burning away at the newly forged bond between Blair and Jim. Blair's beatific smile disappeared, Emory's words gnawing at his self-esteem. 

The older man pressed his advantage, choosing his next words with deliberate care, aiming them where they would do the most damage. "He just wants to fuck you, Blair. Men like him don't keep someone like you. He'll use you and throw you away. He'll leave you, Blair." 

The CEO paused for dramatic effect. "Just like everyone else in your sad, pathetic life." 

Jim didn't wait for Blair to respond to Emory. He took one look at the tears that still shimmered unshed in Blair's cloudy blue eyes and reacted. "I've had just about enough of you and your insinuations, asshole." He grabbed Emory, who was hardly a small man, by the collar, lifting him up until his own shirt threatened to strangle him. 

"I didn't invite you here, and I want you gone. Now." The undercurrent of menace threading through Jim's terse declaration was readily apparent. 

Emory smiled brightly, this time a genuine smile of triumph. He knew he hadn't won yet, but the scent was in his nostrils. He'd driven a sword of doubt and suspicion between the two men, and now he could afford to sit back and wait to reap the rewards of his self-righteous action. 

Emory clicked his tongue. "Oh, my, I seem to have overstayed my welcome. Very well. I'll go. But...I'll be back." 

Not if I see you first, you manipulative prick. Jim's icy blue eyes narrowed on the target of his growing wrath. Now there was a word. A word of Biblical proportions. Wrath. Not dislike. Not anger. Fucking wrath. Feel my wrath, you stupid fuck. 

"Blair?" 

Blair made a little noise that might have been a word. Or not. He seemed to be hanging by a thread now. Through all of this, Blair had been so in touch with his anger, he hadn't let himself feel the pain of losing Jim. But his mind seemed hellbent on jumping ahead of him, concluding that Jim was already gone but for the shouting. 

"What?" 

Jim resolutely met Blair's stricken look. With something that was close to a flourish, Jim bowed at the waist, sweeping his arm gracefully to the floor, despite the incongruous picture he made in his boxers. "I realize that you are perfectly capable of defending your own honor, but in the interests of justice, fair play, and the good old American way, can I please hit him? Just once. I swear." 

A half-smile crept slowly across Blair's lips. "Well..." he drawled. "Just once." 

Before Emory could get out of the way, Jim tapped him on the shoulder, saying lightheartedly, "Tag, you're it." 

When Emory blinked, Jim hit him. True to his word, he hit him just once. Blair stood next to Jim and watched as the older man reeled backwards, his head banging with a dull thud against the wall. Moments later, Emory stumbled down the hallway, eschewing the elevator for the stairs. Big mistake. He lurched off the top step...and fell the rest of the way down. 

Blair looked aghast. Jim gave him his best "I am so innocent look. "I kept my word, Chief. Only punched him once." 

"He could fucking sue us, man." 

"Then he'd have to explain why he came here in the first place, Chief." 

"He could make it sound so...ugly." 

Jim shook his head. "Love is never ugly, Chief." 

Blair ventured out into the hall and peered down the stairway. "I don't think he's moving, Jim. Shouldn't we do something?" 

"Like what, Chief? Kicking him while he's out like the proverbial light would be so...anticlimactic." 

Blair scowled at Jim. "I mean, shouldn't we call the police? Or an ambulance?" 

"Nah...he'll get up...eventually." 

"I can't believe you're just going to let him lie there, Jim." 

"And I can't believe that you're actually advocating for him, Chief." 

"Tell me we are not arguing over that piece of-" 

Jim smiled sweetly. "Shit? Is that the word you're looking for, Chief?" 

"Even shit has its...um...uh...." 

"Lost for words, huh? Why don't we go back upstairs and argue some more? I have a few new words I can let you have." 

"Jim, you can't be suggesting that we have...um...sex...while that man is lying at the bottom of a flight of stairs." 

"Is all this moral outrage for real, Sandburg? I mean, maybe I got it wrong, after all. Maybe-" 

"Maybe I did fuck him? Is that what you meant to say, Jim?" 

Jim's eyes frosted over. "I told you that I trust you." 

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't trust you, Jim." 

Whoa. That one struck him dead center. Right in the heart. 

Part 12/End 

"I don't believe you." 

"What?" 

"You heard me, Chief. I don't believe you." 

"Why not?" Blair seemed dangerously close to tears. 

"Because of this." Jim claimed Blair's mouth in a possessive kiss that literally stole his breath away. Blair whimpered slightly under the sensual onslaught. He could no more hide his reaction to Jim than fly. All those years of holding back and lowering his expectations to what he thought was a more realistic level could not prepare him for this. 

Jim broke off the kiss, and Blair protested weakly, a soft murmur of "Jimmm" reaching Sentinel ears. Re-positioning his mouth to slant across Blair's lips from the opposite direction, Jim nudged those lips apart to allow his tongue to explore further. 

A neighbor further down the hall popped a curious head out, but quickly ducked back inside at Jim's baleful look. "Maybe we should move this back inside, Chief. We're attracting an audience." 

"What about--?" Blair asked, more interested in the outcome of his interrupted tryst with Jim than in how Nolan Emory fared. 

Jim peered down the dimly-lit stairwell and shrugged. "Well, doesn't that beat everything? He's gone, Chief. Apparently under his own power. Guess he'll live to fight another day." 

"Don't say that," Blair said with a shudder. 

"He's just some arrogant asshole, Chief. He can't break us up. You know that, right?" Jim was not a kind man. He was nothing like a kind man. Yet it was moments like this, when he was at his most reassuring, that made Blair's hopeful heart sing. 

"You never believed him," Blair declared with a fair amount of awe. 

"Neither did you." 

Blair shook his head. "I never thought you were just out for a quick fuck and run, Jim. If I thought that...well...." Blair colored slightly, but met Jim's ardent blue-eyed gaze evenly. "I never would have told you I love you, man." 

Jim's mouth brushed lightly back and forth across Blair's. "I love you, Blair. I know it took me too long to realize it and even longer to say it, but I'm not taking it back. Ever." 

"God, I was so afraid of fucking this up. You're my best friend, Jim, not just my partner, and I was so scared that when you found out I was in love with you, things would change." 

"Things have to change, Chief." 

"I know, I know, but Jim...I don't want to lose what we already have." 

"We won't, Chief. We'll just keep building on what we have." 

"Promise?" Blair whispered, his blue eyes impossibly big and filled with such adoration that Jim's heart skipped a beat. 

"Promise," Jim vowed. 

* * *

It was like a fucking dream come true. Blair in Jim's bed. Touching Jim. Jim touching him. Jim feverishly cataloguing the ways he wanted to make love to Blair. "The door is locked, the phone is off the hook, and we have to get up for work in about four hours." 

"Maybe we should just sleep, man. What do you think?" 

"I want you to be comfortable, Chief. If that's all you want to do, that's fine." Jim tried his best not to look disappointed, but Blair read him like a well-loved book. 

Blair grinned with an insouciance that he didn't really feel. He should be scared to death at what he was contemplating. He'd never had sex with a man before. But this wasn't like that. This was Jim. The kisses, warm and wet and improbably wild, were wonderful. The fingers threading gently through his long hair were as loving as they were soothing. But none of those things was completely unknown territory for him. The kisses and the caresses were somehow an extension of the way Jim had always touched Blair. 

"I would love to know what you're thinking right now, Chief," Jim said, emotion charging his voice with a huskiness it usually did not favor. 

Blair hid a smile that got away from him by burying his face against Jim's firm chest. What he was thinking would take them irrevocably beyond the realm of friendship. Not that there would be any going back for either of them. "I was thinking how good...you felt... _before_...." 

"Oh, yeahhh...." Jim's self-satisfied look reminded Blair of a big cat, proffering its belly to be rubbed. Jim was offering himself to Blair? 

"Can I touch you?" 

"I think if you don't, this is going to be a very one-sided romance, Chief." 

"Is that what this is, Jim? Romance?" 

"It is now." Jim's eyes were hungry for another glimpse of his spirit-is-willing-but-the-flesh-is-still-struggling-to-get-up-to-speed partner. "For me." 

Jim grabbed Blair's thumb and deliberately and provocatively rubbed the digit against his mouth. Drawing it into his mouth without any warning, Jim smiled at the not-so-subtle signs that Blair was aroused. His pupils dilated to the point of utter darkness. His sharp gasp at the sensation of Jim, Jim, for fuck's sake, touching him that way. 

"You brought me off before, Chief. Now it's your turn. Tell me what you want," he whispered to the younger man. 

Blair grew hard almost instantly, and Jim's hands wandered south to Blair's hips, stroking, stroking, almost ceaselessly stroking. "I want you to....." 

"Mmm, yeah?" 

Suddenly he was so embarrassed, he couldn't speak coherently. "I...I...." Blair abruptly raised tortured blue eyes to Jim's. How could he possibly say this to Jim? 

Guessing that Blair was both overcome by new and intense feelings as well as worried about scaring Jim away, Jim let his hands move slowly down Blair's back and over his buttocks. Blair was barely breathing now, each hitch of his breath sounding like it might be his last. Jim pulled the younger man against him, aligning their bodies so that Blair's cock nestled in the wiry hair at Jim's groin. His cock twitched as if to proclaim its happiness with this state of affairs, and Jim almost laughed out loud. 

Imagine Jim being the one to take the lead here. Blair, for all his "free love" style upbringing, not to mention his seemingly nomadic disposition, was looking to Jim to anchor him firmly to terra firma. Jim's tongue flicked out to lave the side of Blair's neck, and Blair's eyes nearly rolled up in his head, his eyelashes fluttering down like the fake snow inside one of those glass globes that children shook. "Jim...." 

Jim kissed him as his hands found Blair's cock. Jim's tongue entered his mouth and swallowed the gasp that was Blair's response. "I love you. All of you," he whispered as he stroked the hardened length of Blair's erection. 

"Iwantyouttocomealloverme." 

Jim's hand tightened imperceptibly on Blair's cock. Thank God for the control that Blair had given back to him. Dial down, Jim. He could hear his voice in his head, even though they were nearly nose to nose. 

"Are you sure that's what you want, Chief?" 

No, that's not all I want, Jim. Blair hushed the voices of doubt inside him, banishing them to wherever they came from. I want you to fuck me. The pain will probably fucking kill me the first time, but I don't care. I need you inside of me. This need is so great, it's like an ache that won't go away, but keeps getting bigger and bigger. Maybe that's why I need it so bad, Jim. It's a way for both of us to change at the same fucking time, neither one of us getting left behind. It marks me as yours forever. It binds your spirit to me. Christ, Jim, you've read my mind before! Just- 

Jim's expression was too enigmatic even for Blair to read. The older man's lambent blue eyes traversed the entire length of Blair's body before resting on his beloved face. Pumping harder and faster, Jim forced Blair's climax upon him, the hot white stream pulsing against Jim's groin for several seconds. His fingers swirled through the come pooled there before painting a superficial circle around each of Blair's nipples. 

Impossible as it was, Blair began to harden all over again. Jim brushed his fingertips against his mouth, tasting the essence of Blair on his tongue, and Blair could have come again, it was such an erotic sight. 

Oh, God, it was finally going to happen. The merging of their spirits had taken place long ago. It was something Blair was more comfortable with than Jim. But eventually...Jim clearly came to terms with the idea, if he was able to give himself to Blair like this. In a way, with their spirits so inextricably intertwined, the physical expression of that union was almost anti-climactic. 

Except that the anticipation of the actual event was enough to make him come apart in Jim's arms. Without Jim even touching him. 

Jim pressed his mouth to the side of Blair's neck and suckled until he raised a significant bruise. He felt very territorial. This was the claiming, long denied, even longer postponed. 

Breathless, Jim heaved himself on top of the smaller man, murmuring, "Are you sure?" 

Blair's response, without the slightest hesitation, was "Are you crazy?" 

Jim groaned, "I think I am. Just a little. Crazy in love with you. Stupid, huh?" he added in a self-deprecating tone. 

"You don't expect me to agree with that, I hope," Blair said, nearly humming with contentment. He might never sleep again. Dreams couldn't be this good. 

A long pink Sentinel tongue slurped affectionately at Blair's face, and Blair found himself giggling despite his inner tension. "You're making me wet." 

"Amongst other things, yeah." 

"Are we really going to do this?" 

Jim nodded. "God, I hope so. If we don't, I'm going to have a devil of a time explaining it to my body." 

"You let your dick lead you around, huh?" Blair seemed inordinately pleased by this news. 

"No, Chief, I let your dick lead me around." But Jim didn't seem the least bit discomfited by the idea. Especially judging by the size of the grin he wore. 

"All these snappy retorts make me feel hotter than hell, Jim," Blair said, abruptly realizing that Jim had totally relaxed, his body draping itself around Blair as though he wanted to wear him. Squirming underneath Jim's considerably heavier frame, Blair wondered how he was able to feel out of control and safe at the same time. 

"There are condoms in that drawer," Jim said, indicating the top drawer of his nighttable. 

"Mmm, you were a damn good Boy Scout, weren't you, Jim?" 

"Kinda gives new meaning to the phrase, "Be prepared", doesn't it, Chief?" 

Blair thrust involuntarily against Jim, moaning when he couldn't seem to get close enough. "I want you in me, Jim," he whined softly. 

Jim rolled the condom over his cock with nerveless hands. If he allowed himself to actually think about what Blair just said, it would all be over. "I can't believe you're going to let me do this," he muttered under his breath. 

Years of listening to Sentinel-speak had honed Blair's senses as well, and he registered what Jim meant. "I'm not letting you do anything, Jim. We're doing this together." 

He knew he was supposed to do some kind of stretching. Otherwise, no matter what Blair said, Jim could hurt him. Badly. But the intimacy of putting his fingers inside Blair momentarily stopped him. It was Blair who finally slipped the leash of his control. 

"Fuck, Jim. If I was any more relaxed, I'd be boned and filleted and ready to be cooked, never mind eaten." 

Jim stifled the urge to laugh. He was definitely in the Sandburg Zone for sure now. "You always bring everything back to food, Chief. You should have that investigated." 

"Fuck, yeah. You're a cop, Jim. Investigate me." 

Jim slid his own rigid erection through what seemed like nature's lubrication, coating it liberally. He wasn't sure that he knew much more than the basic mechanics, but if desire counted for anything, it was going to happen. 

He poised himself at the entrance to Blair's body, hoping neither of them would regret this later. Suddenly, he wasn't even sure how it happened so quickly, Jim was indeed inside Blair. Whatever resistance there should have been was lost as Blair responded. "Ohhhh...yeahhhh." That was what Blair meant to say. But it was three-quarters breath. 

Momentarily disconcerted, Jim almost didn't move within that snug channel. He could feel every throb of Blair's body, he thought, almost zoning on the feel of Blair around and under him. 

"Don't you dare zone on me now, man," Blair whispered. 

To his chagrin, Jim stroked twice and came hard. Like a young boy excited by the feel of his first handjob. Jim caught his breath on something like a sob, and Blair came again. "I love you," Blair cried, because it was the right thing to say, and because he was incapable of thought beyond this. 

Always his Blessed Protector, Jim pulled out and carefully disposed of the used condom. After they were cleaned up, courtesy of Jim's earlier decision to place lots of towels at the bedside, Jim reached out with both arms to pull Blair back into a tight embrace. 

The younger man's curly head seemed to fit just fine under Jim's chin. Pressing a quick kiss to Blair's forehead, Jim sighed happily. We're going to be okay, you and me, cause I know I never loved anyone like this. 

He must have spoken aloud because Blair's muffled voice vibrated his chest. "What?" 

"I said...if you'd known all along how it would turn out, would you have done anything different?" 

Jim thought hard before answering. "No. Cause we had to get through there to get here." 

"Me, too." 

It was good to be the love of Jim Ellison's life. At the moment of greatest impact, they changed each other and were stronger for it. They lay in each other's arms and slept. Reality would intrude soon enough. 

End Gemini Rising 


End file.
